


Wild Side of Justice

by hopeassassin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Dai-chan is a wild card, Excessive Violence, Exploratory piece with a twist, F/M, Mentions of Kagakuro, None-too-explicit adult content, inconsequential OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeassassin/pseuds/hopeassassin
Summary: It doesn’t take the observational genius that Satsuki is to notice that her boyfriend seems to have a pretty wild side to him.//Or: All the clues Satsuki gets about Daiki having a bit of a wild streak, and the one incident that brings it into the light of day.(AU where Aomine and Momoi meet in their thirties and start dating.)
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Momoi Satsuki
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	Wild Side of Justice

**Author's Note:**

> So, uhh... It's been eons, hasn't it? I haven't been around in this tag in forever, yet it hasn't populated nearly as much as I'd like it to in the 2 and a half years I've been dormant.
> 
> How _this_ piece happened is that I was thinking about how to finalize my other story "Obstruction of Justice", and a plot bunny came at me. At the same time, I was not planning at making this part of the aforementioned story, so now it's a spin-off from it, in a sense.
> 
> This ended up being thorough self-gratification, so here's to hoping it actually makes for an amusing read!

It doesn’t take the observational genius that Satsuki is to notice that her boyfriend seems to have a pretty wild side to him.

She’s been dating Daiki for about half a year or so already. Although he never does or says anything to bring his wildness to light in an irrefutable way, there are all these little things that allude to it with just as much certainty. 

One such example is his taste in music. 

Of course, he never complains and lets her have free reign of the radio in his car and can even sometimes tap his finger on the driving wheel to some of her musical picks. 

However, it’s those times when he’s on his own in the car that she notices how much different his personal choices are from hers. 

Where she listens to the catchy, popular songs that they will always play on any conventional radio - be it in their country or overseas - his taste seems to lean more towards heavier music. 

The kind with lots of hard guitar riffs, heavy drums and bass, rattling solos you can headbang to and vocals who scream more than sing the lyrics that are usually less family-friendly than those in any of her preferred songs are.

In the beginning of their relationship, his musical preferences seem to be something he would rather keep to himself. Whenever he picked her up with his car, and he’d have some kind of heavy metal band on, blasting from the speakers, as soon as he pulled up in front of her - before she even had the chance to climb inside - he’d already stop the music. He’d nonchalantly switch to her favorite radio and strike up the conversation with her right away as she climbed in. She’d always get derailed in the moment and forget to ask him about why he always did that.

Satsuki wonders why he felt the need to do that every time. 

Her most educated guess is that he believed—having witnessed what  _ she  _ considers good music—that she wouldn’t be interested in his idea of good music. 

The second option (the one that makes her angrier to consider so she pushes it aside) is that he probably believed her some kind of glass flower who is too fragile to be exposed to such “heavy music” for fear that it might damage her frail sensibilities (or something dumb like that).

She’s glad that with the small events giving them the chance to, she ends up convincing him that, although what he listens to is not her first choice, there are some songs she can come to like as well. 

She broaches the subject of some of the songs and bands he initially quickly tries to switch away from upon her arrival somewhere by asking him what he’d been listening to because it got her curious. 

The unguarded look of pure surprise and the twinkle of some kind of happiness in his eye at those times are just enough to want her to give him a tight hug for being his weirdly shy self when it came to the music he enjoyed.

Once having established that it’s okay to not always listen to her music when they’re together, she gets to see another rather endearing point that he’s unwittingly kept from her. 

His soft singing along to the lyrics of songs he knows by heart and his humming to their melody when their conversation has relapsed into a comfortable silence is nothing short of cute and charming in her books. (And she stands behind this claim even if the lyrics themselves are not something she would speak with her own mouth.) 

Sometimes he even gets so into the songs he loves most when they come on that he’ll drum his palms to his thighs or the wheel while waiting at a red light. 

(She’d always have to bite her lip hard to keep from commenting about it in any way. She’s sure she’ll spazz out from how cute it is to her when he does those things and she’s just as certain that he won’t take it well. Worst case scenario, he might end up getting self-conscious about it and start purposefully stopping himself when he catches that he’s doing it in her presence. 

And  _ that  _ would be just such a terrible freaking shame that she will  _ not  _ risk it.)

But, anyway, long story short, his musical preference - and the way he enjoys it - makes her think that there’s a wild side to him he’s not letting into the open (but it peers through nonetheless).

Her second clue to that is that he’s very competitive. 

Being competitive in itself doesn’t necessarily mean that someone should be or is wild. In fact, throughout her life, she’s known plenty of people who are just as competitive but rather docile in their strive for excellence and superiority.

Not Daiki though.

  
Compared to those other examples she’s thinking of, his strive to always be the best at whatever it is, is always tempestuous, impulsive and almost primordial. In any fight or flight kind of situation, she’s sure that he’ll always choose fight and it will be something fierce.

This streak of his is best evident whenever the two of them and the Kuroko and Kagami pair are sharing a nice evening together at Daiki’s apartment. 

It’s usually a really pleasant affair until the guys suggest some kind of mini-tournament in whatever game (be it on the PlayStation Daiki proudly owns or a simple board game like Monopoly) to get some diversity to the evening.

And then the incompatible competitiveness of Daiki and Kagami will clash, causing the whole fun little standoff to become this fierce power-struggle between the two of them. 

In those situations, Kuroko and Satsuki will usually become part of the sidelines, looking on in marveling, quiet wonder as their significant others would challenge one another until they’re blue in the faces, never accepting their loss against the other and repeatedly demanding a rematch in whatever it is they’d been facing off in.

At first she just finds it funny so she says nothing to contend with it. What’s more, the first time it happens, she doesn’t feel like she has the right to speak up about it. 

Not to mention, Kuroko is in the exact same boat as her and seems to tolerate it with the same grace she does. The teal-headed man has known the two clashing parties for much longer than she has, so she takes it as a sign that this must be the best way to deal with it.

(Initially, she used to think that Kuroko just doesn’t want to put himself in between Kagami and Daiki for fear of having their sparks fly his way. 

It takes several situations when they’re clashing badly within an inconvenient surrounding for Satsuki to come to realize how wrong she’s been in this assumption.

The usually listless expression and infallibly quiet tone in which the teal-haired man usually speaks belies the force he seems to hold over his two closest friends when they misstep around him. 

Clash ongoing or not, if he cuts across them with his icy monotone and stony look in his sapphire eyes, all animosity and childish fighting gets dropped  _ immediately _ , and they start being on their best behavior.

These occurrences - rare though they may be - bring Satsuki a profound sense of awed respect for the small-statured man.)

A bit later she learns that even if she tries to mitigate a fight in the making, her voice falls on deaf ears. If the guys want to clash, grab each other by the arms and ram their foreheads against each other (figuratively speaking, of course - thank goodness they’ve never actually  _ physically  _ duked it out; not that she knows of, at least), there are very few forces in the world that can stop them.

So Satsuki takes a leaf out of Kuroko’s book and whenever things start getting out of hand between her boyfriend and his, they just start to keep themselves busy with small talk, getting themselves tea or snacks until the battlefield’s blazing bonfire has died down to cinders.

If she’s being completely honest with herself, Daiki’s fierce unwillingness to yield is not really one of his most charming features. 

It’s something that she doesn’t particularly like or dislike about him in the sense that it seems a bit… what’s the right word? Barbaric, perhaps? It’s hard to put her finger on it but while it isn’t quite  _ bad _ or off-putting, it’s not something that she can honestly admire in him either.

However, although the trait itself is not something too commendable about him, in the rare cases when she stays and raptly watches them play out their most recent showdown in a video game or such, she can’t help but be captivated by the adrenaline-pumping duel that they’re engaged in. She can admit that she doesn’t find it particularly flattering on him, but at the same time, the kind of high-inducing power struggles that they get locked into can’t  _ not  _ get under her skin. 

Her third clue is somewhat connected to the previous one. 

Not only is Daiki rather competitive in  _ every  _ conceivable situation, but coupled with his quick reflexes and penchant for constantly trying out new games, he demonstrates to her the amazing feats that a human who’s just  _ more  _ can achieve. 

He’s faster, he’s stronger, he’s quick-witted and he’s intuitive, with a sense that always leads him to spot-on split-second decisions that get him on the winning side.

She can never stop marveling in open-mouthed wonder when he performs some movements that she believes impossible to do in real life.

When he first shows her the Beat Saber game on his PlayStation console, she’s immediately charmed with the idea of it. What’s even more exciting is that his home setup for it, coupled with the 50-inch HD TV, make for some really interesting gaming times for them. 

For someone who’s so good at that kind of thing, he shows immense patience for her clumsiness while teaching her and walking her through the basics. Being a quick learner and also a person who doesn’t stand for losing too long, Satsuki picks up the game pretty quickly. 

Gets to a pretty amazing skill level at it, too, if she may say so herself.

But it’s in those times when she needs to take a bit of a break to cool off from all the exercise the game has given her, and she lets him play on his own to the songs he wants, that she realizes that they’re in completely different leagues. 

Skill-wise and physically.

He plays through the most insane beats without missing a step, his arms and movements so perfectly timed to the mind-numbingly fast approaching boxes that she can only stare with unblinking eyes and mouth hanging ajar as she witnesses it. 

Should it have been her playing that song, she’d say that it’s unfeasible. Too many boxes, too many arrows showing confusing directions from which the boxes should be sliced, too many  _ things  _ happening all at once -  _ no one  _ would be able to do this, because the physics of it aren’t doable.

And then in waltzes Daiki, all fluid, lightning-fast strokes and otherworldly agility making him capable to not only see and  _ know  _ what is expected, but also do it with such grace and accuracy that it appears deceptively easy. 

In those times, not only does her heart flutter in her chest in child-like glee at the inhuman feats he pulls off, but after staring at what he’s seeing and doing from his perspective, she has to turn and look at the sight he makes while he does. 

She’s always transfixed by the amazing finesse with which he plays the hardest songs in that game that just seem to accentuate that he’s just something else.

The fact that he makes it seem like he does it all on autopilot makes her believe that it’s not that he does it unconsciously - it’s that his instincts take over. But instinct without ability is useless, whereas in Daiki’s hands it’s something almost dangerous. 

If he can demonstrate it in such mundane activities as playing silly VR games, it makes her wonder: in what other type of situations would this wild streak of his give him an edge that’s much less than innocent?

Another one of the more subdued qualities that allude to her his wild hidden nature is his manner of speech. 

More precisely, his sometimes coarse language.

Of course, he’s not some kind of street punk who will only strike poses and mouth off. Not by any means. Daiki isn’t the type of guy who will needlessly put on airs in front of others. 

He’s a physical kind of guy so talking and  _ words  _ overall aren’t his forte. 

Which, in turn, doesn’t mean that when he knows himself superior in something, he is the type of person who will not outright say so - even if it ruffles someone else’s feathers when he does. 

He has this absolute, unshakeable knowledge about his limits - physical, skill-wise and overall - that makes him able to confidently claim things that coming from anybody else would sound arrogant.

(Let’s face it: the words sound arrogant coming from him, too. Only, when put to the test and showing his reasoning behind his arrogance, it quickly becomes blatantly obvious that he’s not just  _ saying  _ stuff. It’s how things  _ are _ .

He’s not just showing off that he can do what others cannot. It’s that he does it without any ado - and he does it with  _ ease _ .)

But rather than the manner in which he speaks normally, the way it slightly shifts when he’s provoked makes it evident that there’s an underlying  _ something  _ beneath his normal, everyday self.

That wild something rears its head when someone annoys him, pushes his buttons wrong, or when he’s aroused. His language gets cruder, way more direct and his words more coarse. 

Whenever something happens that stirs him on a less than shallow level, it’s like another facet of Daiki’s character rises like a tidal wave. His words reflect this easily with how they take on a sharper edge, start aiming to hurt and he uses them as his weapon (whereas normally he doesn’t put much conscious effort into them). 

His normal standpoint on conversation is that if he manages his point across, that’s all that matters. It’s all the same to him if he fumbles with what he says once or twice. As long as the other eventually understands. 

But when provoked in any way, his speech becomes ruder, painfully straight to the heart of matters (which others might prefer to close their eyes to). His otherwise overwhelming superiority becomes the back to lean on as he proceeds to squash any point whoever is rubbing him the wrong way may be trying to make.

Another facet to this tendency is that he curses a lot. 

Make no mistake, Satsuki is not some kind of puritan or prude who doesn’t utter an obscenity or two herself every now and then - especially when roused wrongly. But to Daiki, it comes as naturally as breathing in a lot of situations. He does it without really thinking much about it, and if something has stirred him in any way, it intensifies. 

It’s not something she particularly minds, per se, (although she does chastise him for his language every now and again when he takes it to extremes in the wrong situations) but it is a curious thing that she’s noted. 

She attributes it to his wild streak that he mostly manages to keep under wraps, but the fact he represses said streak as much results in it becoming so obvious as to paint his speech patterns. She believes this firmly and nothing can convince her otherwise.

Last (but certainly not least by a long _ , long shot _ ) is his arduousness. 

Anyone who knows the very first thing about Aomine Daiki is that he’s driven, doggedly determined and has a really strong passion for anything that catches his fancy.

It’s true for his profession, which he loves.

It’s true for his hobbies, in which he spends an unholy amount of time until he’s become the best at them.

It’s true for all the things he sets his mind to do - regardless how good (or not) he is when he first picks them up.

He has the drive, mental fortitude, focus and passion to see things through until he is the best at it, whatever it is that has caught his fancy.

It’s about a million times more true when what has caught said fancy of his is  _ a person _ , Satsuki comes to learn.

She learns it very early on in their relationship (before it even is a relationship) while it’s still all flirtatious smiles, fleeting touches and shameless innuendos. 

When things escalate into bringing their bond to a next (more intimate) level and he starts getting comfortable with it enough to let loose at times, she gets to see it.

While he’s normally content enough with a normal, languid pace to their intimacy, whenever stimulated excessively (due to a revealing outfit of hers or teasing mannerisms; or due to something she’s said or done to him; or just any number of other things that seem to work that way on him without any underlying principle to them), Daiki lets his wild side take over in bed.

_ That _ , right there, is her most obvious clue. 

Because, while all other aspects can maybe be attributed to something else, his tempestuous, burning passion that sears the mind cannot. 

He’s ardent and driven and single-minded, all searching and borderline bruising touches that feel just so amazing while he works her up (and himself) into a frenzy. He’s quick on the attack, fingers deft and undeterred. He’s gutturally vocal about it, extremely focused on the frivolities he’s taking with her body that make the whole act that much more sensual despite the briskness of it.

His pace after he pushes into her at those times is fast, unrelenting and unapologetic. He doesn’t hold her as close as he usually does but that doesn’t make it less personal or any less enjoyable for her. 

As far as she’s concerned, any kind of Daiki in bed is the best Daiki to have. He’s earned that much as recognition from her for his skills (which he only seems to work on further improving). 

But a wild, emboldened Daiki is just a different cup of tea altogether. 

The way he takes her in those moments (aggressively, passionately, with reckless abandon and wantonness) makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps erupt all over her. His curt thrusts when he ruts against her in mounting fervor as he builds both of them up for a toe-curling release makes her feel like her reason is melting altogether. 

The sensation is all the more intensified by the fact that he can keep up this insane pace that makes her see white spots behind her eyelids for a long time. 

He’s already ridiculously well built, his body perfectly toned with sinewy muscle everywhere, and the sight he makes in the nude can be enough to reduce anyone on the receiving end of his passion to a quivering mess in and of itself.

But that Adonis-like build of his comes with matching stamina and otherworldly self-control to match it. He can go for so long and so hard that in those moments he lets his more feral side take over their intimacy, she feels like her throat will go hoarse from all the noise he’s causing her to make. 

She feels raw from the pure, overwhelming pleasure that he makes build up in her core while he’s ramming into her that she ends up clawing at him with her nails. This makes him growl in a way that makes her hairs stand on end while he mercilessly works her up ever further. 

The sounds he makes when he’s like this are also very different. 

While he’s normally very appreciative of her ministrations to begin with, when he lets the wild side of him take over it’s like he switches to an entirely other mode of something that’s otherwise wonderfully familiar. 

He’s all growls, and grunts, and snarls and it just works on making her feel all the more intense about what they’re doing to know that on a primordial level, it works on him that way. Daiki, her Daiki, who is all domineering but in cool control while he’s having her becomes this frenzied, hyper-sensitized, animal of a man who gives her sensations that she’s never thought she’d be on the receiving end of.

Satsuki has had other relationships before him. Almost all of them have been physical.

She’s a well-read woman so she does know, factually, that her body is capable of having multiple orgasms.

She’d never actually had them before she started sleeping with Daiki.

What’s even more mind-boggling is that he doesn’t need to be doing something extraordinary to get her there. The things they normally do are more often than not plenty to feed her passion to such extremes as well.

But when he lets loose, it’s entirely different.

The releases she has in those moments are blinding, her heart hammering so hard from the strength of her arousal and physical stimulation, her breath getting stuck in her chest and throat as she struggles to hold onto reason while he moves with the determination to destroy it for her. 

She screams and keens and begs and moans and cries out but he doesn’t let up. No matter how she quivers around him, how often she comes undone around him, her body holding onto him for dear life, he doesn’t stop until he himself finishes with a loud guttural growl.

In the aftermath when they’re done at those moments, her legs always feel twitchy and numb from the strain they’ve been put through. Her whole body - most prominently her limbs - is spasming (convulsing) from the residual feeling of sensational overload that has lighted up every nerve cell in her being.

It takes her five times longer to recover in those moments, and unlike their usual, Daiki also stays deceptively quiet and unmoving, collecting his bearings just as slowly as she, while reining in his labored breathing.

He always seems lost in thought as he’s looking at the ceiling (or closing his eyes altogether) after those times.

And damn him if that doesn’t make him all the more delectable.

* * *

All of these wild traits of his might just be part of his charm if that’s all there is to say about the man who’s Aomine Daiki.

What makes them all the more peculiar is his choice of profession. 

Because, after all, Daiki is a model policeman, a rising star in his department and an academy graduate at the very top of his class in a year of top promising talent for the field.

Having someone with such an ill-disguised (yet well-reined in) wild streak being a peace-keeper is quite the paradox. 

What’s even more mind-boggling is that Satsuki knows that Daiki is a very physical being (she’s been on the receiving end of his physicality on so many occasions) and he has a tendency to be high-handed and overbearing, so not having seen him get into any fights or having to use his excessive force seems really outlandish to her.

And then, as if to spite her, the deities above throw the incident that changes that right at her, without any warning.

* * *

They’re in a sketchy part of town at night and it’s all her fault for that.

Reading GPS maps and cooking are not things Satsuki can claim she’s proud of.

Daiki seems amused enough to tease her for it while she has her nose in her phone, screen shining in the night. He pokes fun at her while she shushes him and struggles to orientate what is where and where they need to go if they want to find the little restaurant that Tetsu has recommended.

He notices before she does because it takes the shuffling of several pairs of feet from beyond her peripheral vision for her to even look up from her mobile device.

When she does, her blood runs cold in her veins.

She sees they are surrounded by no less than eight men, each pretty menacing and looking like bad, bad news. 

That none of them are nearly as tall as her boyfriend doesn’t really matter when they outnumber him so greatly. 

Before this instance, thanks to the fact that she knows that Daiki is strong and really good at his job as part of law enforcement, Satsuki has never feared for her well-being (or his).

But that night, her heart leaps in her throat and starts suffocating her as fear grips her entire being.

She sends a furtive look towards Daiki’s profile next to her and sees that he’s voided his face of everything. His look is stony and betraying absolutely nothing. He stands as tall as he is, back straightened and drawn. His lips are set in a taut line and his brows are knitted stormily over his cobalt eyes. 

His hands are clenched in tight fists that he’s keeping in his jacket’s pockets, seeming no different than before the arrival of their unwanted company.

The sleazy expressions and mocking jeers as the group tightens the ring they’ve formed around the couple makes Daiki’s shoulders wire with tension.

“Well, well, well, well, what do we have here?” Daiki’s eyes shift without his head moving along with the gesture, to fix upon the one speaking out of the approaching group. “Some super babe with huge knockers and real fine legs… and some nobody who doesn’t know he’s where he doesn’t belong. And on  _ our turf _ ?”

It’s probably the goon leader, Daiki estimates while remaining perfectly still and evaluating. He hears Satsuki’s gulp next to him and wishes he could take her hand and comfort her.

But that is not something he should do right then, he believes from what he’s gauging as the group approaches them. Not if he wants to diffuse the situation before it can become one.

“W-we… just got a bit lost. We’ll be out of your hair in a minute!” Satsuki speaks up next to him and her boyfriend’s jaw clenches. The last thing he wants is for her to bring herself to the attention of these pricks any more than she already has by just being her lovely, speechless self.

“Whoa, whoa, did you hear that, Ken-chan?” One of the guys in the back pipes up. “So damn cute! Imagine how she’ll squeak with that cute voice of hers while you fuck her into the pavement! Just thinking about it is giving me shivers, man!”

The comment makes Daiki’s eye twitch and his teeth gnash but he tries to keep as cool as he can. His stomach does a painful twist and his fingers are twitching to bring some serious hurt upon the jackass who just spoke. 

_ Don’t lash out _ , he tells himself.  _ Keep it cool _ . Satsuki is with him. He can’t just snap and lose his shit there. He can’t risk anything happening to her.

_ Keep it together _ .  _ Lean on your training. You’re a pro. _

“Hey, boys, I’m not really sure what’s up with you lot, but there’s no need to be crude.” He lifts his shoulders up in a placating shrug. “Like the lady said, we ain’t interested in your turf or whatever. There’s no need to turn this into a scene, so we’ll just be along on our way.”

Daiki’s nonchalance and lighthearted manner is met with snickering and jeering. The leader of the group is shaking his index finger at him while clicking his tongue.

The pretended nonchalance slips off the navy-haired man's face so quickly it’s like it’s never been there.

“You don’t seem to get it, boy-toy. What  _ you  _ want matters jack shit in here. The only things that matter are what I want. And right now, that’s the sweet little piece of ass behind you. So if you run along and pretend you weren’t here at all, we’ll let you go without beating you black and blue. How’s that sound for a deal?”

All the color drains from Satsuki’s face when she realizes this will get a dozen shades of ugly in record time. Her mind is already reeling over how she can help mitigate the situation her airheadedness has put them into but none of the options she can think of are a solution.

The one thing she does believe will do actual good—calling for reinforcements—gets shot down when the guy closest to them kicks the phone out of her grasp while she’s trying to call the precinct.

“Nuh uh, you don’t, missy,” the long-legged goon says with a sultry grin that shows two missing teeth. “No spoiling the fun with needless texting or such. Seriously, young’uns these days and their phones, am I right?”

The group of thugs shares a hearty laugh at the smartass comment from the asshole who destroys Satsuki’s phone but Daiki is less worried about the device and more mindful of the fact she’s trembling like a leaf next to him. Her knees are startling to buckle together and she looks like she’s about to cry.

He’s never seen her like this and it rubs him in all the wrong ways when he’s already getting pretty pissed to begin with. His gut is already churning with hatred and barely contained aggression but he reminds himself to keep his head level. 

He can’t be the one that causes the situation to escalate and turn much worse for the one person he wants to keep safe above all else.

“If it’s just the phone, I can let it go,” Daiki mutters darkly while looking at the screen of the device that’s flown a good meter away from them. It has cracks across it like a spiderweb and its light is no longer shining in the night. “But if even one of you reaches out to touch a single hair on her head, things will not go in a good direction for you folks.”

The navy-haired man is throwing his most intense glare at the fucker who kicked Satsuki’s hand to make her let go of her mobile device. He knows he needs to keep a good hold on his boiling over fury but if he doesn’t at least say that much, he might really give in and wring that guy’s leg for having dared bring it within a meter of his girl.

“Do you  _ hear  _ the nonsense this guy is spouting, Rei?” Another one laughs to Daiki’s right. His brows narrow further over his eyes. This one even has a grating voice, to say nothing of his shabby appearance. “He’s trying to act tough when he’s alone against all of us! Ha! That’s the funniest joke this week!”

They all seem to find it hilarious and they share another laugh over it. 

The only one unamused seems to be the gang leader, who is already feeling Daiki’s challenge in his posture and cool demeanor. 

“Look, fella, the deal I’m giving you has a clock on it. Your mug is seriously starting to tick me off, so if you don’t get the fuck out of my face right this instant, I’ll run out of patience and you’ll start running out of teeth. You read me?”

Daiki rolls his eyes away and this makes the leader even more annoyed. 

“I really don’t want this to turn into a brawl. It’s been a while since I fought people and I don’t want it to get uglier than it needs to be. So let’s not make it, yeah?”

Satsuki is coming out of her horrified reverie enough to look into Daiki’s impassive profile. He’s lifting his shoulders into another ‘let it go’ imploring kind of shrug and he’s talking so bravely as if there is a chance he can take on all 8 potential opponents at once. 

She believes he’s just bluffing and trying to make the gang leave them alone with just some kind of intimidation game but she doesn’t see how that will work out.

And if they get assaulted, well… Although she’s very well aware things will turn terribly for her, she fears for her boyfriend’s life from the looks he’s receiving from the group surrounding them.

“Boss, let me slug this smart aleck once! He’s starting to seriously piss me off!”

Daiki takes his hands out of his jacket pockets and lifts them, palms up, in a placating manner.

The ring slowly starts closing more around him than the two of them as the thugs each take a step towards him - the one provoking them.

“Let’s not get all heated here. Violence is not a solution, right? I’m actually a cop. See?” He takes out his badge from his jacket pocket, flashing it to the leader. 

The latter has a panicked look seize him instantly at the object before him. Daiki gives him a smirk in response. 

“I can see you understand what it means. Like I said, there’s really no need to make this uglier than necessary, so if you just let go on our way, I’ll let this whole thing go and no one will be any the wiser. Yeah?”

Their intended target being part of law enforcement will throw spanners into their retarded plans, the policeman knows. 

After all, having one of them assaulted and his girlfriend coming to harm would be more than reason enough for the whole precinct to be sicced on these goons, including any of their buddies that might not be around tonight. Once the police set out on a vendetta against street crime committing gangs, his colleagues can sweep the whole neighbourhood clean if they want to. 

If anything, it would even be accepted societally if they are to crack down harder than ever on petty crimes if it makes the news that one of their coworkers was victim of violence on the streets.

After a brief murmured exchange between them, a new resolution sets in the eyes of their leader.

“No, I don’t think so,” he surmises at length, making Satsuki’s heart clench in her chest again. The hope that sparked in her during their hesitation now dashed instantly. “Dead men tell no tales, right?”

“Oi, oi,” Daiki says in a mirthless tone. “Joking about murdering a policeman now? Really?” The expression slips away from his face so rapidly the change of pace makes the men around him flinch. “Drop the tasteless jokes or I’m really gonna bust your balls through your fucking mouth.”

“Hear, hear, this guy is still running his mouth how he pleases despite being in for the beating of his life!” One of the goons to Daiki’s left side starts to crack his knuckles. “We’ll leave your face in a state that even your momma won’t be able to recognize in the morgue, smarass.”

“I’m done warning you, fools,” Daiki growls, hunching over slightly. “I’m quite hot-headed, you see. If you light my fuse, it will be hard to put out without someone ending up in the hospital. Or worse. It’s your call.”

The fist that comes flying towards her boyfriend’s face isn’t accompanied by any sort of warning. Satsuki sucks on a breath, her hands flying to her face to cup her nose in the split second it takes before the hit lands.

Only, it doesn’t. 

The navy-haired man ducks to the side with lightning fast reflex, before pulling his arm back as far as it goes for a punch.

The rapid succession with which he throws the actual punch gives away none of the weight and force he’s put into it.

When his fist connects with the guy’s face, there’s a loud crack before the thug sways and falls to the ground. His body remains motionless on the pavement, under the scrutiny of seven pairs of incredulous eyes.

Daiki tilts his head and releases a jeering sound.

“Oi, oi, asleep already? After all that boasting about what you’ll do to my woman and to me? Come on, now, grow a pair, will ya?” His menacing grin darkens into a livid grimace. “At least  _ try  _ to entertain me a little and put up some fight, huh?”

When the friend of the guy he’s knocked out cold takes a swing in blinded rage at Daiki, the latter takes a couple of steps around in perfect footwork to dodge the punches aimed at his face and torso. 

Once he’s successfully evaded the attack, he parries with a quick punch to the jaw of the guy. The poor bastard is nursing his chin with tears welling in his eyes from the force of the hit when Daiki grabs him by the shoulders and knees him so hard in the gut the guy’s breath is knocked clear out of his lungs.

When the second guy collapses to his knees, looking for all the world like a gaping fish that’s been taken out on dry land, Daiki clicks his tongue and spits to the side.

“That all you got? Fucking pussies.” 

To Satsuki’s horror, instead of capitalizing on the element of surprise that seems to be on his side and helping evacuating the two of them, her boyfriend just lifts a hand and tauntingly calls over with a gesture the remaining 6 members of the street gang. 

“Come on, no need to be shy. Come at me at once if you like as well - no need to pretend you even know how to play fair.” Daiki makes a derisive sound then and the fury dancing in his eyes becomes menace. “Don’t you pussies fucking get your panties in a twist. I’ll give you a freebie first hit, each. After all, it ain’t self-defense if I don’t, right?

The gang members look between themselves and some kind of silent agreement seems to pass between them. 

The third guy who steps up to the lone defender seems to know some kind of martial art or fighting sport. Satsuki can tell from the fact that his attack isn’t as haphazard as those of the previous two, and his movements are more measured. He also manages to dodge Daiki’s following punch and kick, remaining in a defensive stance afterwards, guard up.

“Boxing boy, eh? Ain’t that nice?” Daiki taunts on with a humorless laugh. “I kinda like you, man. At least you put up a better fight than your buddies here, I’ll give you that much.”

Satsuki’s face is still cradled in her trembling fingers as she looks on at the horrifying scene unfolding before her. Although for the moment the five other members of the gang are skulking around and letting their boxer friend take on her boyfriend in the middle of a makeshift ring they’re creating around them, she knows that this fragile balance will not remain like that for long.

Her pulse is fluttering anxiously as she watches with wide eyes as the two men in the middle exchange blows between each other. Every swift punch that goes out flying towards her significant other’s face and midriff makes her force the strangled sobs with great difficulty back down her throat. She realizes that drawing attention to herself right then is the last thing she should be doing, but she can’t bear to watch mutely what will follow.

Yet none of the hits thrown at him actually connect with her boyfriend, for some reason. 

He manages to always somehow duck to the side, parry them or altogether dodge out of range. And although he hasn’t come to any harm yet, the fact that the other guy’s attacks are starting to speed up as he takes on the offensive makes the pink-haired woman clench onto the sides of her face harder.

She can see the rest of them lurking like predators, just waiting for the incentive to jump in and gang up on Daiki once he brings down his guard enough to allow them room for that. She doesn’t really understand anything about fighting or street brawls, but she can instinctively tell the policeman has given his potential assailants no openings to exploit yet.

The atmosphere is starting to get more and more tense the longer their boxing friend is having difficulty cornering the sole target of their anger. Some of the goons are starting to throw in some jeers and suggestions on how he should attack, yet no matter how he comes at Daiki, he keeps missing him by a narrow margin or getting his arm smacked out of the way. 

However, the next punch thrown at his face from his opponent, Daiki barely manages to dodge and ends up having his cheek scratched. 

His eye twitches in an annoyed tick when his patience snaps.

What happens next tanspires so fast that Satsuki has a hard time catching it. 

The boxer throws another couple of well-aimed punches that Daiki ducks around but catches the guy's arm when he extends it for the second hit. Then he maneuvers them around so that his body is aligned with the other guy’s and elbows him hard in the chest.

This causes his opponent to double-over from the force of the attack and the sudden onset of pain. 

But Daiki isn’t done yet because he moves back another step and yanks hard on the guy’s arm until there’s a loud crack and the thug is wailing in agony.

His most recent opponent collapses on his knees, painful tremors still raking him from the pain his broken arm is causing him. 

When Daiki looks up to the rest of them, he notices that 4 out of 5 remaining gang members are taking out switchblades from their pockets.

A dark grin that doesn’t touch his eyes twists the policeman’s face.

“Oi, oi, pulling knives on an unarmed cop? You guys being serious?” The unamused stretch of his lips disappears unnervingly quickly once again, to be replaced with a dead serious expression. “You do realize they teach us how to deal with this kind of shit as early as the academy days, right?”

His opponents seem to think that any training he may have received—and their incapacitated friends around them—are no reason for them to think they may lose. 

Truth be told, Satsuki doesn’t think things can go any better with 4 knives suddenly put into play and she’s just so very, very afraid for her significant other at that moment.

Maybe while it was still a fistfight, after he dealt with almost half of the group in quick succession, they may have had the chance to flee the scene before those goons could have a chance to turn the tables on him. 

But now, with the sharp blades glinting in the insufficient light of the streetlamps above them, Satsuki feels a sharp pang of horror spear her body. 

The feeling is only intensified when all four of Daiki’s opponents jump in at him from different sides, for the sole purpose of stabbing him from wherever his blind spot ends up being in that situation. A horrified scream dies on Satsuki’s numb lips as her whole being quivers in expectation of the inevitable, yet her wide, terrified eyes unable to look away from the tragedy about to unfold.

Not for the first time that night, her fears of what will come to pass end up not being met with the reality of what actually transpires. 

Having all four armed assailants jumping at him at once after having evaluated each of them previously, Daiki quickly ducks and makes a sweeping kick at the back of the legs of the most inexperienced-looking one out of them. 

When the action sends the thug tumbling straight to the ground, the policeman uses the space that’s freed in that direction to evade the mad jabs from the other three, who seem bewildered to suddenly be looking at one another, instead of their target.

In the second it takes them to regroup, he appears behind the closest one, wrestling the knife out of the guy’s hold with enviable speed before locking his strong arm around the neck of his would-be assailant.

Being much taller, when Daiki straightens his back and pulls harder on the guy’s throat in the chokehold he has on him, the gang member makes a weird noise and his feet leave the ground. Satsuki cannot see from her standpoint but the glint in her boyfriend’s eyes is chilling to the other two standing men as they watch their buddy getting the life slowly strangled out of him.

“Watch out!  _ No _ !” The wailed out warning escapes her without her conscious intention while she watches, aghast, as the guy her boyfriend toppled first makes a wide arcing slash at him from under his field of vision.

Caught unprepared, the blade slices across the side of Daiki’s arm, opening a large gash. The sharp cut starts to instantly bleed profusely. It’s to the upper arm that he’s been using to chokehold the gang member, so the policeman ends up compulsively letting go of his prey.

Which is just as well, because all the fight has left the goon, and the lack of sufficient oxygen to his head has been enough to let him collapse to his knees, helplessly gasping for breath and tethering on the edge of consciousness.

Daiki, on the other hand, is looking at the blood running down his arm. The wound is somewhat visible through his black leather jacket, the glistening of the crimson liquid in the insufficient light ugly and unexpected for the law enforcer.

“Don’t let him intimidate you, idiots! He bleeds just like any other fucker! See!” The unwise bastard who slashed at Daiki pipes up. 

His statement would be significantly more effective if his voice wasn’t shaking, betraying that he’s been just as convinced that the one they’d been fighting wasn’t a normal human like the rest of them.

But his comment is really the wrong thing to do in that situation.

True, Daiki feels a bit embarrassed at himself for allowing them to catch him off guard. 

In his rush to deal with all of them as quickly as possible, he had completely forgotten about the guy whom he’d brought down with a kick to the back of the knees.  _ Of course _ it would be possible for the jackass to get himself together rather fast from that. He hadn’t even bothered to disarm him, for fuck’s sake.

The realization - coupled with the pain seeping in from the edge of his consciousness from the pulsing wound on his arm - makes the navy-haired man even angrier than he already is. He’s acted like an idiot and it got him hurt. Worse than that, he’s given these retards reason to think they might be something more than dirt under his shoe soles.

Before the three men remaining standing in front of him can start believing themselves possibly victorious again, an animalistic snarl is released from Daiki’s throat when he tears the jacket off his body as if it scalds him. Having the wound out in the open brings him a bit of reprieve but the painful throb of his upper arm is not important.

What matters is that he’s so enraged that he’s basically seeing red. Now that they’ve tried - and almost successfully shanked him - he honestly doesn’t think there will be any contention that what he’s about to unload on them is the result of self-defense.

Daiki launches himself at the bastard who’d spoken up and grabs him by the wrist with the knife before he can step out of the way. A look of pure horror twists the gang member’s face when he peers into the policeman’s expression. 

The punch he receives from the law enforcer’s non-dominant arm is unfairly powerful. The second that follows it almost turns off the lights for the recipient of the blows but before he can collapse, his holder twists his arm and flips him over.

Under the disbelieving looks of the other two, their friend is sent flying with the ease one would have in lifting up a rag doll. The next moment, he lands on his back with a heavy thump and the wind is completely knocked out of his lungs.

With blinding fast speed, while the two remaining goons are still processing what has just happened to their friend who’s gasping on the ground, Daiki appears within the line of vision of the one who is physically closer. 

The knife is kicked out of his hold with a perfectly aimed kick to his hand holding it, and the weapon skids across the pavement outside of the halo of light from the streetlamp.

However, looking after his knife proves to be a grave mistake, because it opens the man’s defenses completely to the second kick that comes flying to his chest surprisingly quickly after the previous. 

After it connects, the guy stumbles backwards from the pain that starts to snake up to his every nerve ending from the point of impact. Before he can realize what’s happening, a punch catches him in the gut next, causing him to double over. The uppercut that comes from underneath his chin next is laden with so much force it knocks him completely off his feet.

He is sent flying back, landing sprawled on the pavement.

That the navy-haired man delivers the finishing blow with his wounded arm to the utter disbelief of the last guy hunched in front of him is just solidifying for him that the cop before him is inhuman. 

Daiki’s blood splatters from his gaping wound towards the last man when he parries a slash at his midriff. 

The gang member seems to be unused to his opponents having complete disregard for their own well-being and ignoring all damage done to them. What’s worse is that the longer the fight goes on and the more their numbers have dwindled, the last remaining gang member feels like the guy is becoming faster and deadlier in his aim.

Being the sole recipient of the aggression the cop is obviously itching to dish out makes the thug feel honest to God fear gripping at his being.

His movements start being more spastic as he jabs and slashes in wide, quick arcs at his opponent’s face. To his utter bewilderment, the cop dodges and ducks around all of his attempts to hurt him, and before he can have another go at carving his face, a fist collides with his windpipe in a mind numbing way.

The suddenness of the blow makes the goon’s eyes water unwittingly. His knees buckle as he takes a wobbly step back. Before he can get his bearings about him, his knife is wrung out of his hold and flung to the side. He has no time to lament the loss of his line of defense against the violently oncoming opponent, because the next second an elbow connects with his temple. 

He’s out cold before his body even makes contact with the pavement under.

Daiki stands upright to his full height slowly, back straightening again as he surveys the scene. He cracks his neck left then right, taking out the cricks in it when he hears it.

A choked, female sob behind him and a strangled version of his name make him snap out of his reverie.

His eyes widen and dread spreads through his chest like an inkblot on white paper. 

He’s miscounted and completely forgotten about the goon that started the whole thing. 

Now, the gang leader has his filthy hand clamping on Satsuki’s mouth while she struggles to free herself from his hold, a panicked look contorting her features.

His other hand, though, is what makes Daiki swallow drily. 

The gang leader’s other hand is holding a switchblade against Satsuki’s midriff, pressing against the fabric of her shirt. They must’ve wrestled while he’d been dealing with the last assholes because her jacket is lying discarded next to her feet.

“Don’t struggle too much now, babe,” he says in Satsuki’s ear and licks at her cheek that isn’t covered by his palm. She clenches her eyes shut and trembles like a leaf in his hold. “Wouldn’t want my hand to slip and end up cutting you open like a fish, would we?”

As if to prove his point, he runs the sharp tip of the blade along the middle of the pink-haired woman’s chest, slicing a couple of the buttons off. 

The loss of the items leads to her shirt opening a bit for his vantage point above her. 

“Oh, damn, look at those boobs and that soft flesh. It just  _ begs  _ to be motorboated, you know.” 

Daiki takes a large, menacing step forward and the gang leader grabs tighter to Satsuki’s face and pushes the knife snugly against her side again. The policeman stops but his blood-curdling glare is still fixed upon the assailant holding his girlfriend captive.

“Nuh uh, I don’t think so, SWAT squad.” He shakes the knife’s blade at Daiki in a denying gesture. “I get that you’re fast and your height makes that fucking reach of yours insane. So don’t you go making any more steps here, or I’ll really have to hurt this lovely face.” He breathes heavily into Satsuki’s neck, making her cringe and clench her eyes shut tight. “We’d both hate for anything to happen to this lovely face, so don’t you dare fucking move, smart guy.”

Daiki doesn’t hear a damn word from what this retarded pissant is saying. All he hears is the blood rushing and pumping in his ears. His veins are suddenly thumping with the adrenaline coursing through them and the silent promise of pain he is pledging in his mind to deliver to this fucking shitbag.

He’s been all cold, calculating efficiency in dealing with the other gang members but at the prospect of Satsuki being brought into the frey, his mind starts going in overdrive and his anger begins to boil over. 

He knows better than to take any movements that might endanger his girlfriend, despite the overwhelming need to reach out and  _ hurt  _ this fucker a thousand times over for dragging her into this. 

It doesn’t matter to him if he ends up stabbed again or with a broken nose or a bleeding lip or whatever. 

Satsuki, though, he cannot— _ will not _ —stand to see hurt.

While the goon is mouthing off some more, her eyes open and she stares at him with a watery expression on her face. She looks positively shaken and it’s breaking his heart to see her like that. 

Simultaneously, the fury that’s still seething in him at watching her being held like some soon-to-be murder victim by some no-name street punk is making his blood boil to dangerous temperatures.

Satsuki swallows and closes her eyes tightly while trying to take a deep breath through the guy’s hand. The next time she opens her eyes, there’s a determined gleam in them. Daiki’s heart skips a beat then leaps into his throat when he sees it. 

He knows she’s about to do something insanely brave and equally stupid before she even takes action.

The guy is reaching down with the knife towards her lower body while saying something, and is therefore completely unprepared for the way she stomps hard on his foot while biting ferociously at his hand. He’s taken her for some hapless damsel in distress and leverage to use against her berserker boyfriend, which proves to be the start of his downfall.

The sudden spark of pain from her attack on his foot and hand makes him pause long enough, and loosen his hold on her just enough for her to slip out sideways from it.

He’s cursing her and about to hold the knife better to stab her with when a large leg comes flying with extraordinary speed and force at his knife-holding arm. 

The roundhouse kick connects perfectly with the elbow joint Daiki has aimed at it, and the bastard screams in pain when the arm is dislocated upon impact. The policeman pauses just long enough for Satsuki to amble away, clutching at her chest protectively, before his cold cobalt gaze is on the gang leader once more.

The rage is twisting and coiling in his veins, making Daiki crack his neck again as he steps up and towers in front of the guy.

Before the kneeling one can compose himself at all, a sledgehammer-like fist collides with his jaw, prostrating him on the ground. 

He gives a mute groan of pain while Daiki steps into his field of vision from above.

The cold, stony look on his face makes the thug realize that he’s played with his life in a way there might be no return from.

“You know, I was  _ really  _ trying to keep it together enough that there wouldn’t be any casualties in this.”

His voice is so level and devoid of emotion, mirroring the impassiveness of his expression, that a primordial fear envelops the gang leader while he watches his approach with wide, frightened eyes. 

“I don’t want any of your sorry corpses weighing on me because it wouldn’t even be worth it. That’s why I went easy on your buddies back there.” He points over his shoulder with the arm that has blood dripping down his elbow and splashing onto the ground next to the gang leader. 

The eyes of the latter drift briefly towards his fallen friends who seem to all be worse for wear. No one is able to stand. He’s not even sure if any of them aren’t really dead, despite this lunatic’s claims to the opposite.

He has no mind nor time to worry about his entourage though, because in the next moment the cop’s stony expression is permeating his vision. Daiki grabs at the guy’s shirt collar, lifting him up until they’re on the same eye level.

“ _ You, _ though…I think for you, trash, I might make an exception and actually slaughter.”

The manic glint in his cobalt gaze despite the barely contained rage in his voice speaks volumes to the street thug about the truthfulness of his claim.

The first punch Daiki throws at him makes the guy fall back onto the ground, once again sprawled out beneath him. The next few cause blood from the goon’s busted lip and nose to smear over Daiki’s knuckles as he delivers heavy hit after heavy hit against the now defenseless recipient of his rage.

His opponent is long since out cold and if he keeps it up, he really might kill him. But at that moment, it honestly doesn’t matter to Daiki. He’s taken too much shit from these little cunts. They’d run their mouths and thought they could do what they want just because they greatly outnumbered their victims. 

Who the fuck knows how many times they’ve actually succeeded at pulling this stunt to random passersby? 

There’s a crack when a bone gives in from Daiki’s assault. He pauses in his tracks, as if suddenly snapping out of a murderous daydream.

It’s long enough of an awakening for him to hear the soft, dry sobs coming from behind him.

The murderous daze that’s been clouding his reason lifts and he realizes that there’s something much more important he needs to be doing rather than alleviating his anger on these deserving asswads.

He dashes over and crouches next to the crying Satsuki, who seems to have folded in on herself. 

She looks so small and miserable, hunched over the way she is, that he feels his heart crack in tiny, tiny pieces.

“Satsuki? Hey?” he calls her softly, reaching out to touch her cheek with an open palm of his injured arm. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

When she realizes he’s reaching out to her, she flinches and recoils as she looks at his face. 

More than the gash on his arm, her reaction hurts him so very much more.

She’s been terrified to be in this situation and he understands that. But what he understands more is that he’s scared her. He’s always been so careful not to let his temper have free reign over his senses when she’s around. 

But in the situation they’d been in, self-control had been a pipe dream. 

He’d let himself go and damn near slaughtered 8 grown men with his bare hands in his righteous frenzy.

And she’d seen it all, up close and personal.

He doesn’t blame her for being scared of him. Hell,  _ he  _ scares himself sometimes. It’s okay to be scared when he’s become completely unhinged and flown off the handle. He doesn’t and will not hold it against her.

It’s okay but it still fucking  _ hurts _ .

Something must show on his face because the very next moment her expression melts into blubbering relief and the tears are streaming down her sides freely. She holds the hand that she recoiled from, and presses it to the side of her face with trembling fingers.

“Dai-chan,” she sobs out, a hiccup tearing from her lungs. “Hold me?”

Her voice is so tiny and she appears so pitiful when she makes her plea that he can’t think of denying her even if he is crazy enough to consider it.

His arms wrap tightly around her and pull her into his crouching embrace. She collapses against his chest with a wet sob, allowing herself to be enveloped in his much larger frame. She sinks into his hug, letting herself disappear in it as much as she physically can. Her arms wrap around him, hands fisting into the fabric of his shirt at the back as though she’s holding on for dear life.

“I was so scared, Daiki! I was so, so scared…! I thought… I thought…!” She’s nearing hysterics and he’s petting her head with urgent strokes. 

When it doesn’t seem to comfort her from her fit, he sits down on the pavement and pulls her into his lap. 

He rocks her back and forth in his secure hold until she starts calming down.

“I know what you thought. But it didn’t happen. I won’t let it happen.” He’s peppering the crown of her hair with featherlight kisses. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. You hear me?”

His hands are wrapped tightly around her much smaller shoulders when she gives a shuddering, blubbery “yes”.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He asks her then when he pulls her out of his embrace enough to be able to peer into her face. 

She’s a mess because of her profuse crying and her nose and eyes are red, her cheeks puffy but she looks otherwise unharmed.

Looking into his face makes a fresh wave of tears well up from inside her. Thinking that it’s because he’s scaring her again, Daiki pulls her into his embrace once more.

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.” She struggles in his embrace and wrestles out of his pliant hold enough to turn sideways to cradle gingerly the upper arm that got slashed. “What about you? Are you okay, Dai-chan? You must be in a lot of pain, right?”

She plants a kiss, then two, then three around the wound on his arm and for all he knows from the way his pulse trips, his wound is already healed up.

He pets and soothes her while gently rocking her back and forth again while he assures her that he’s fine.

Several minutes later, Daiki’s colleagues arrive at the scene and, although they know the guy and what he’s capable of, they can’t help the slight pause the scene gives them. 

There’s a scattered team of 8 men (about half of them or more having knives somewhere near their person) in various degrees of being beaten black and blue.

They have no doubt it’s done in self-defense, but with the overwhelming odds having been stuck against Aomine and yet how he’d turned the tables on them so soundly, it somehow makes the newly arrived policemen at the scene feel sorry for the stupid lot that decided to pull a dumb trick like that on Aomine Daiki, of all people.

As for the thugs who came to somewhere along the line (but had enough brain in their heads not to try anything funny or give away the fact they're conscious), it was utterly unbelievable.

It boggled their minds that the monster that had decimated them, damn near murdered them in cold blood (single handedly and with just his bare fists), could also be the same guy holding the pink-haired girl so tenderly, cradling her in his embrace and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to give away as little about this in the summary and the initial A/N as possible. So hopefully someone was surprised at the development of this.
> 
> The soundtrack that brought the beginning of this piece to life was Limp Bizkit's "The Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water" album, coupled with Korn's "Issues" album in the latter half, particularly "Make Me Bad".
> 
> If you want to have a visual aid on Daiki's Beat Saber playing, you can refer to [this video](https://youtu.be/3ehSPtWoiuc) as an example of what I had in mind. Sans any notes at all being missed. 
> 
> Speaking of the Beat Saber, I did almost ridiculous research into it to try to wrap my mind around how I could get them to play together and if it's even physically possible and how. I found out that with Play Station Move, it should be possible with some serious setting up to a video output as well for someone else to be watching what you're playing. So let's just say it works this way for the sake of the story, yeah? :D 
> 
> I worked and re-worked this so many times for the past week that at this point, I'm not even sure if it makes for a good read? But it's self-gratification at its best: I felt like seeing a Daiki like that in these kinds of situations and this kind of narrative, so I went ahead and made it happen. I hope you ended up enjoying it, too, if you're still reading. 
> 
> There needs to be more AoMomo in this world - AU or canon-compliant.


End file.
